


Dirty Mouth

by Vector



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-15
Updated: 2009-05-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 15:30:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vector/pseuds/Vector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What the <i>hell</i> makes you think I'd come with you?" Chapter 61 spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Mouth

"What the _hell_ makes you think I'd come with you?" Giriko snarls, low.

"Ah? Think about it carefully, won't you?" Justin says, holding up a finger. "If you decide to leave here alone, Shibusen forces will kill you on sight. And, you know," he adds, turning his palm up. "We might kill you, too."

The figure at his back looms but doesn't comment.

"...Fucking hell," Giriko mutters after a moment, face in his hands. "Fine. I can kick your ass any time I want later."

"Hmm," Justin hums, and clutches the metal eye hung around his neck where his cross used to be. "O God, I ask your forgiveness for the sins I am about to commit."

Giriko looks up with a glare. "Cut that shit out."

"Such nasty language. And when I've gone to all this effort for you. In that case," Justin takes a few steps towards him. "Before we go, why don't you put that dirty mouth to good use?"

"You..." Giriko says, because the brat can't mean what he thinks he does, but he's already undoing buttons.

"It's your decision, of course. You can try to leave, if you think that will suit you better." Justin gestures to the doorway behind him, his coat falling open now.

There's still nothing and no one out there, except the clown-thing hovering somewhere nearby, its aura oppressive. _Dammit._ "You're a fucking shitty priest," Giriko says as he drops to his knees on the stone.

Justin gets his pants open right there in front of him, and Giriko wants to punch him in the balls but he's not fucking suicidal. Then the priest gets his half-hard cock out, and it isn't even that _big_, but Giriko's not suicidal enough to say that either. And it's not like he wants it to be bigger.

So instead he works on convincing his jaw to unlock from its grimace as he reaches out to guide the cock towards his lips.

It's not even that bad, which pisses Giriko off. Justin smells clean, slightly sharp like sweat and a bit like metal or blood. When he gets the head in his mouth it tastes the same, only even more strongly like metal. Giriko thinks he can feel a heartbeat against his tongue as Justin's cock hardens - or maybe that's just the bass from his headphones. Maybe both those things are fucking beating in time, it would be just like the kid. He moves deliberately erratically just to spite him.

After a minute, Justin settles a hand on Giriko's head, pushes him down so he slides deeper down his throat and Giriko almost chokes before pulling back.

Giriko can't help it - he half-snarls around Justin's cock, his teeth scraping flesh. He hears a metallic _shink_ sound that he can't place for a moment, and Justin's hand tightens painfully in his hair. Giriko's cock twitches in his pants. Then he feels a drop of warm blood trail down his ear and realizes that the guillotine blade in Justin's forearm has nicked him.

"Ah, I'm sorry. But you should be more careful." The blade retreats with another _shink_. Justin's grip loosens, and instead he pets Giriko's hair softly, which is worse than the pain. He can deal with pain at the hands of this kid - it just makes him want to tear him apart more. But nice gestures like that make him think of different things than death threats and his knees getting sore, and it confuses his body.

Just to get things straight, he pulls off for a second to say, "Fuck you."

"Now, now. None of that." Justin says indulgently.

Giriko takes a few breaths, looking at Justin's spit-slick cock in front of him to remind himself what he's doing. Then he ungrits his teeth, leans back in and takes as much in as he can, and doesn't gag when the head rubs, salty-tasting at the back of his mouth. Justin's fingers tighten at the back of his neck. A spike of something runs down his spine and settles in his balls.

He sucks cock hard and sloppy, not being fucking _careful_, just trying to get it done with, and Justin starts sighing and moaning, like he doesn't know or care how loud and obnoxious he's being. Or he just wants to make Giriko listen to his fucking porn noises. Dammit.

When Justin comes, he pulls back some but doesn't let off, and his come fills Giriko's mouth. Only then does his grip loosen again.

Giriko spits on the floor and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as he stands. His cock is straining against his pants, harder than he thinks it's ever been without getting some handling. The bulge'd probably be obvious to anyone who looks, but he's just going to ignore that, because like hell he wants the kid to think he gets off on shit like this.

"Good boy," Justin purrs as he tucks himself back away. "You could use a reward."

"Don't fucking call me that, you--" Giriko breaks off as Justin fists one hand in his shirt, rucking the bottom hem up to bare skin, and curls the other under the band of his jeans, fingers brushing the light trail of hair there. Giriko's hands are on the kid's shoulders immediately, but for some reason he can't bring himself to just shove him the hell away.

Instead he just clutches as Justin undoes his pants and gets his hand down inside them, and there's no hiding how turned on he is from someone whose hand is wrapped around his cock, but somehow that seems less and less like something to complain about.

Justin pulls steadily, rhythmically, and it would be perfect except that Giriko's so worked up already that instead its way too fucking slow. It's good, really good, but it seems like it will be forever until he comes like this, and he's already rock hard and pushing into Justin's hand involuntarily.

"Damn you," Giriko says, and tilts his head back, closes his eyes so he doesn't have to see the insufferably smug look on the kid's face as he says, "_Faster_."

He can still hear him, though. "Pushy boy. But I suppose you have been good." And he can feel it as lips brush lightly at the exposed tendon of his neck.

Giriko opens his mouth to curse, but it comes out choked as Justin's movements pick up, double-time. All of a sudden it's too much, and he's right on the edge. He digs his fingers into Justin's muscled shoulders as hard as he can, and is rewarded by a grunt. Like hell he's going to tell him to slow down again, though, fuck, that would be worse than anything - but instead it's just a ridiculously short time before he's spilling himself over the priest's hand, gasping for breath.

A few breaths later Giriko's mouth still tastes bitter, and his whole body feels worn out and beat to hell.

Justin just licks some of the come from his thumb with a small smile, and wipes the rest of it off his hand with a handkerchief. "Well then. Won't you please come with me?"


End file.
